No Refuge
by Liathwen
Summary: Khan manages to salvage three members of his crew and awakens them. One of them, Molly Hooper, remembers snippets of a past life. A past that Khan has no knowledge of.
1. Khan

**Well, apparently I'm a masochist because I've started this fic while I still have 3 to finish. Bear with me. Blame Miz-Joely who posted a bunch of Khan!lock stuff on Tumblr and got the gears of my brains turning. It's all her fault.**

**Anyway this one will be a wild ride, with some violence, some dubcon and lots of language so you are warned.**

**Our story begins with the scene in Star Trek Into Darkness where Khan is demanding that his crew be beamed aboard his warship and goes au from there. I hope you enjoy!**

* * *

Khan scanned the torpedoes for signs of life.

_Damn, they're almost done removing the capsules, Marcus' daughter is cleverer than I gave her credit for._

Khan Noonien Singh growled his discontent lowly, softly enough that the sound did not transmit through to the other ship through the open communication link. His vibrant blue-green eyes flashed with annoyance that his plan had gone awry and he was unable to take the full number of his sleeping crew from the depths of the Spaceship _Enterprise_.

There were seventy-two in all. Seventy-two faces, seventy-two of his brethren locked in capsules, deep in cryosleep. He'd placed them there, in the torpedoes. He had wanted to keep them safe. When he thought that his crew had been taken from him, murdered in their sleep, he'd gone after his suspect with a vengeance. He wasn't sure why his fury had consumed him as completely as it did, he was only aware of a deep, aching sense of loss that he couldn't understand.

Khan's brow furrowed in annoyance. His brilliant mind could see all of their faces, however, he did not actually remember any of them. Their personalities were lost to him, a fact which he chalked up to an effect of the cryosleep.

_I will remember soon,_ he told himself, just as he had every day for the nearly eleven years since he'd been awoken from his age-long slumber.

Khan's sculpted torso rippled under his fitted black shirt, the uniform of the hated Starfleet of which he had been a part under the pseudonym John Harrison, after he was awoken by the greedy and ruthless Admiral Marcus. His long, musician's fingers tapped the arm of his chair, the captain's chair of the warship _Vengeance,_ (_aptly named_, he thought,) biding his time, waiting for the analysis of his targets to be complete.

He was perfect, a feat of genetic engineering. Khan was stronger, faster and smarter than the puny humans in the ship in front of him. He was superhuman in all aspects.

His body was a machine; he'd proven it again and again, not the least of times being when he single-handedly destroyed the group of attacking Klingons to save the crew of the _Enterprise._ Not that he cared if they lived or died, but he'd deduced by that time that the missiles they were threatening him with held the bodies of his crew so it was necessary to save them in order to surrender to them.

He was incredibly fast, obliterating his enemies in seconds with his incredible strength. No mere human could best him, and even the Klingons had fallen before his fury like wheat before the scythe.

But as superb as his body was, it was only transport for the most important aspect of his existence, his brilliant mind.

He had mastered the art of controlling his mind, filing away all the useful data in a secure location. Khan pictured a dwelling, small but comfortable, with each room holding a different set of information. He didn't know why the wallpaper of his mind palace, as he called it, had the startlingly graphic black and white pattern, or why there was always a skull on the mantelpiece. Khan wasn't even sure why one of the doors opened to reveal a pristine, white morgue. He just knew that when he closed his eyes and walked through his mind, that was what he saw. So that is where he stored the information he needed to remember. His system worked quite well and he was able to call up data that others would have long forgotten.

He narrowed his cat-like eyes at the screen, while checking out of the corner of his eye if he could lock on to the remaining three capsules that carried his crew without arousing suspicious.

He could.

His hand slid out, slowly, and he pressed the cool button, smirking as he did so. Within seconds, there was shouting on the screen in front of him and he grinned coldly, triumphantly, running a hand through his dark hair, as the capsules materialized in the room with him.

"Well, Mr. Spock, I do believe that our business is concluded for today." Khan spoke to the image before him, his voice both taunting and cruel. He would not let them see that he was in the least irritated he'd only managed to save three members of his crew from them, though he was sure that the ones left behind would be safe enough. They would not be slaughtered in their sleep now that Marcus lay dead.

"We still have the vast majority of your crew," came the answer, spoken by the ever logical Vulcan. Khan respected him, as his intelligence was far above that of the captain of the _Enterprise_, Kirk, who was all brawn and very little brain. While Khan did use his superhuman body to his advantage, it was his cutting brilliance that really set him a step above the rest of humanity and he knew it.

"Do not mistake me," he snarled, condescendingly, "I said for today. I will be back to collect the rest of my crew and lay waste to yours."

With that threat, (_promise,_ he told himself,) he flipped the switch he had prepared beforehand and his ship disappeared into deep space, carrying himself and his three sleeping crew members.


	2. Familiar Faces

Molly Hooper woke slowly, blinking in the bright sunshine that streamed in the window.

When she could focus, she looked around. The room she was in was drab, the walls and floor a dull, lifeless, grey with the only sign of color being a vase of gorgeous flowers on her bedside table. The cheerful scarlet and yellow hues lighting up her face with a brilliant smile.

Her bed was placed against the wall opposite the main door which was actually a huge window, the glass taking up the entire area where a wall should have been. She looked outside, her eyes narrowing at the view. It was barren and rocky, and Molly couldn't think of a single place on Earth that looked like that, though, for some reason, it was achingly familiar.

She turned back to the room. Another door, which she assumed was the bath, was on her left. Molly made to move, groaning loudly as her whole body protested. She felt like she'd been hit by a truck. All her muscles were sore and she groaned again.

The door opened and a man entered. He looked vaguely familiar, but Molly couldn't place him.

The man was relatively short, not much taller than she was, Molly guessed, and had sandy blonde hair, cropped in the military fashion. His posture was rigid, ingrained in him, giving her further evidence of a military background. His eyes were a grey blue, like fog or the sea after a storm. There was something honest and right about him, which gave Molly a sense of security to calm her uneasiness.

He smiled at her, a genuine one that lit up his face, and spoke.

"How are we feeling, Doctor Hooper?" he asked, holding up a black medical bag, a silent request for permission. Molly assented.

"I'm not really sure. I'm very confused," she replied as he moved over to her and set his bag down, rummaging through it for a stethoscope and light. He listened to her heartbeat as he answered.

"Well that's perfectly normal. Cryosleep tends to make people forget things, though it affects some people more than others." He was all business, pointing to the light to indicate Molly should follow it with her eyes, which she did.

"Cryosleep?" she interrupted, part of her not understanding, while the other part seemed to have a scientific knowledge of the subject. _That's strange._

He raised a brow at her.

"Right, cryosleep," she amended, lamely.

He smiled again. "Do you remember me?" he inquired, a curious expression on his face. She nodded but her brow furrowed.

"You seem familiar somehow but I don't know your name or where I know you from," she gave him an apologetic look.

"Don't worry about it, it's exactly the same for me. I recognize you but I have no idea why. I suppose we were crew mates, and since we are both doctors, we probably worked together. Maybe the amnesia will wear off and we'll actually remember," he paused, frowning. "But for now," he held out his hand to Molly, "I'll introduce myself. I'm John Watson."

The small woman took his hand and introduced herself as well, though it wasn't strictly necessary considering he'd known her name already.

"Molly Hooper, pleased to meet you."

He grinned at her. "Well Molly, you appear to be in perfect health, no adverse effects from the extended cryosleep. That's very good. If you feel nauseous, the loo is just there," he pointed to the door on the left.

"How long were we asleep?" she asked, curious.

The doctor's brow furrowed. "You know, I have no idea. You'll have to ask him." He gathered up his bag and made for the door.

"Ask who?" Molly questioned, highly confused.

He gave her an odd look, before saying, "Oh he'll be along in a little while, I'd bet. He showed up not long after I woke up."

She glanced at him startled, wondering what she had missed. "How long have you been awake?"

"Oh, just a couple days. You took the longest to come out of it. In fact, I think he was a little worried." John stared down at the floor guiltily, as if he was giving away an enormous secret.

"Who?" she asked again. "Who was worried?"

"He'll be along," he repeated his words from before. "I've got to run. Rest. I'll see you in a while." With that, he left, closing the door softly behind him.

_What happened to us?_

Molly stood shakily and made her way slowly to the bath, relieving herself before washing her hands and staring at her reflection in the mirror for a few minutes.

She was pale, but not overly so, considering she'd spent who knows how long in a tube. Her large chocolate colored eyes stared back at her from a plain face, with a smattering of light freckles here and there. Her nose was small and upturned, and her mouth was quite the same. Her thin lips, _nothing pouty about that mouth_, were a dark pink. Her brownish-red hair was down, flowing around her shoulders, and she crinkled her brow. _That's not right._

She fumbled through the drawers, finding a hair tie, then a toothbrush and toothpaste and proceeded to clean her teeth before deftly pulling her hair into one long plait down her back. She nodded at the mirror in satisfaction. After completing her self-appointed tasks, Molly made her way back to her bed slowly, exhaustion making itself evident in her heavy limbs.

Collapsing onto the bed, she tried to remember something, anything, but everything was a blank before she fell asleep. Her brow winkled in concentration but the only things she could remember clearly seemed more like someone else's memories. Like she'd seen a movie and the plot had replaced her own past. It was strange. Frustrated, she sat up, dangling her legs off the bed, her hands clasped in her lap.

She specifically remembered working as a doctor aboard a spaceship. She remembered her crewmates, and seeing all kinds of different planets. The problem was that she kept getting the distinct feeling that what she remembered wasn't what it was supposed to be.

The petite woman stared, unseeing, at her hands, her brow crinkled in thought. She couldn't piece together anything certain, but there were flashes of another life. One that felt more, well, **_right_**. A cold white room, a black and white cat, dark curly hair, and a cherry print jumper.

She didn't understand why she had these competing pasts. It was driving her spare.

She was deep in concentration, and so didn't hear the door open, or see the tall figure step inside and stop dead, studying her.

After a moment, Molly caught some movement out of the corner of her eye and looked up, startled.

Standing just inside the door, watching her intently and with some emotion she couldn't quite name, was the most beautiful man she had ever seen. His intriguing eyes captured Molly's attention and her breath hitched. She stared at him for a minute, with him studying her just as closely. Her eyes narrowed; something was off about him, something didn't look right. Suddenly it dawned on her. She recognized this man.

"Sherlock!" she cried happily. "Wait, what happened to your hair?"

His brow furrowed as he gazed at her silently.

"My name is Khan," he replied, ignoring her question, his eyes flitting over her body. "And you won't forget that, will you, Molly Hooper?"


	3. First Contact

**Special thanks to Miz-Joely and Lisape for letting me throw ideas at them and vent when nothing worked.**

* * *

Khan moved like a big cat. Full of grace and agility, but power was evident in every movement, his muscles rippling beneath the dark material of his fitted black uniform. He advanced swiftly until he was at Molly's bedside, looking down at her. Her breath caught as he slowly, deliberately bent down, forcing her back against the bed.

Molly stared wide eyed at the man who was now leaning over her, heart beating fast at the sight of Sherlock (_Khan,_ she reminded herself, _why do I keep thinking of him as Sherlock_?) so close to her.

Khan smirked down at the small woman beneath him. She was exhibiting clear signs of arousal; face flushed, pupils dilated so wide that only a tiny ring of the chocolate colored iris still showed.

He couldn't explain what it was that drew him to her. She wasn't beautiful by most standards. True, she was alluring in her own way, but if he were to describe his thoughts on beauty, it wouldn't be her picture painted by his words. No, it wasn't beauty that drew him to her. And while, yes, she was highly intelligent if her files were anything to go by, she wasn't anywhere close to his own level. Khan had spent many hours since he'd initiated her awakening from the cryosleep pacing and trying to sort out the intense desire he felt for her. He hadn't made any progress.

He'd devoured ever bit of information he'd been able to find on her in the three days since he'd begun the process of waking her. The two men had come out of the sleep easily and Khan had found himself very worried when she took longer. He told himself he was as concerned for every member of his crew, but that just wasn't the truth. The little woman wormed herself into his thoughts far too often for not even being awake.

Khan didn't even know what she was like yet.

He painted a picture of her in his head. He thought she'd be a little shy, a little awkward. _Prone to make morbid jokes_, he decided when he saw her specialty in pathology. _Likes color_, when he saw the photo attached to her file. She looked like a cat person as well. He had shaken his head vigorously after that, attempting to dislodge his wandering thoughts. He took to sitting in her room on the second day, watching her deep breaths, waiting for her to wake up.

He was there when she began her first movements, signaling that she was finally coming out of the deep sleep. He'd rapidly exited her quarters and gone to find the other doctor, John Watson, and told him to be ready to give her a check over when she was fully awake. He'd gone back to his own quarters after that and paced back and forth. His nerves were getting to him and his brow furrowed.

Now, staring down at her, inhaling her sweet scent, lemon and strawberry shampoo, (he made a mental note to find some exactly like it for her,) and milk and honey from the hand soap she'd used, Khan was more confused than ever.

He wanted her, badly. He wanted to press her back into her bed, take out his cock and brand her as his. So everyone would know that she belonged to him. His eyes narrowed as his thoughts ran away with him and he felt the first tremors of his body indicating arousal. He pulled back suddenly, leaving her staring at him wide-eyed and breathing heavier than before. He smirked, some primal part of him satisfied that he had that effect on her without even touching her.

He held out his hand silently, pulling a syringe out of his pocket, and waited for her to give him her arm. He had to test her blood, to see if she was augmented. It had been a shock to discover that only one of the other two of his crew had been given the drug that Khan had flowing through his veins. The doctor was quite normal, not exhibiting any of the superhuman traits Khan possessed. After a few simple tests, it was determined that he had never received the injection.

The other man, one Gregory Lestrade, was an augment, though his skills still weren't up to the level that Khan's were. He'd felt a smug sense of pride, knowing that even with the enhancement to his body, that Khan was still better than everyone, even his augment brothers.

As he took the blood from her silently proffered arm, Khan thought about whether her being an augment or not would affect his desire for her. When she gasped a little as he removed her needle and bit her soft lower lip, he knew it wouldn't matter one bit whether she was human or an augment. She was already far from normal.

"Report to the bridge in an hour," he ordered, his eyes noting the time on the old-fashioned clock on her table next to the flowers he'd put there. It'd taken a completely unnecessary trip to a populated planet to get them, but he didn't think twice about it for some reason. There were no flowers on this planet where he'd landed the ship. It didn't matter, this was just a stop along the way. A layover, if you will, to regroup and assess the situation.

He would make sure the planet they finally settled on had lots of flowers.

His brow furrowed in confusion and he turned without another word, leaving the room and making his way through the halls to the lab. He stopped in on Lestrade and Watson on the way, delivering the same order to them.

Molly sat perfectly still long after he left, thoughts and heart racing.

He was undoubtedly the most handsome mad she'd ever seen. He was fascinating, from his ever-changing light eyes and strong build to the confidence he exuded with every movement. She chewed her lip. She'd had such a visceral reaction to him, half hoping when he leaned over her that he would snog her silly. Molly blushed as she remembered the intense look on his face as he approached her. She could imagine that look as he explored her body, teasing and possessing her.

She stayed lost in her thoughts for a good while, before jumping up a little too quickly, realizing that she didn't have much time until she was supposed to go. She swayed a bit, but managed to keep to her feet, before heading out of her room to find the bridge.

When he arrived at the lab, he found he had to take a deep breath to be able to concentrate on the tests. His mind was filled with images of the petite woman. Her smile haunted him.

It was then that he remembered that he hadn't actually seen her smile yet. The image that his mind conjured up was so real though, it was almost like a memory.

_A memory._

He shook his head. No, it couldn't possibly be a mere slip of a woman that caused his memories to return. That smacked terribly of sentiment and Khan knew that was one of the very few areas he was severely lacking in.

She tested negative for the components that made up the blood of an augment. She was completely, totally human. Khan sat for a few minutes more, wondering how, if she was ordinary, she could capture his attention so fully. He shook off his thoughts, checking the time, and headed up to the bridge to address his small crew and discuss where they went from here.


	4. Human Life

**Another chapter! And so quickly too! haha enjoy!**

**Thanks to Miz-Joely for reading over and correcting it for me!**

* * *

Molly arrived at the bridge and said hello to John, who inquired how she was feeling, to which she replied that her muscles were a bit sore but she was otherwise fine. He smiled at her, assuring her that he had felt the same when he woke up, and introduced her to the other man in the room.

"Molly, this is Gregory Lestrade. Greg, Molly Hooper. She's medical too," John said, by way of classifying her.

"Doctor Hooper?" the silver-haired man clarified, and Molly nodded shyly.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," he said, ducking down to kiss the back of her hand just as Khan entered the room.

* * *

The now captain of the _Vengeance_ scowled as Molly blushed at the older man's gesture and cleared his throat loudly, making the petite woman jump and look over at his in surprise.

"I believe introductions are over. Down to business." He stalked further into the room, going to a computer screen and rapidly typing in a series of passwords.

"As of four days ago, we all are wanted by Starfleet for crimes against humanity."

Molly's eyes went wide, fear in them, but she remained silent. The two men reacted less, having already been told part of the story soon after they woke from the cryosleep.

He searched through the Starfleet archives and clicked on the video of himself in the wreckage of the Starfleet building in London. He flipped to the files on himself as John Harrison and the file concerning Admiral Marcus' plan to use Khan to build weaponry for the war he wanted with the Klingons.

Khan's eyes kept darting to Molly, who grew more and more pale as she silently read the documents and listened to him tell his version of the story. For his part, he grew frustrated, wondering why she wasn't sympathizing with his reasoning. All he'd wanted to get his crew back. The only reason he'd attacked Starfleet in the first place was to exact his revenge on Marcus for the supposed death of his family.

"At first, I believed that we were all augments; humans, giving a serum which enhances strength and agility, along with whatever intelligence that was possessed originally. However, it has come to light that we were not all dosed with the drug. Lestrade," he nodded at the man, "and I are. John, and you, Molly, are not. I don't know the reason for that but I intend to find out."

When he was finished with his explanation, Khan launched into his ideas for what to do now.

"Obviously, we won't be safe on any planet that Starfleet has access to. Fortunately, there are still many planets that they don't bother with, so we should be able to find something suitable for us when the need arises. First things first though, we need to infiltrate the area the rest of the crew is being held in and get them out."

He sighed. Only he and Lestrade were augments, which meant Watson and Molly were at a serious disadvantage, being no stronger than those guarding the other sleeping members of their crew.

"We'll have to figure out where they are being held before we can plan anything further, which means someone will have to go undercover into a Starfleet controlled area. We'll discuss it more when we're closer to putting our plans into action. For now, I have more research to do to fully prepare us for whatever situation might arise."

He stood, the others falling back a step or two, and turned to face them.

"We are fugitives and will be detained on sight if we are recognized. In my case, they'll probably forgo the detainment and simply attempt to kill me. That being said, there is no mercy for them." His voice was icy. "Do not hesitate to kill them if you need to."

* * *

Molly couldn't stand it any more. This beautiful, fascinating man was in fact, cruel and cold, and she was heartbroken. Before she realized what she was doing, she opened her mouth to berate him.

"They're just people, Khan! They're only doing what they are told to do. They've done nothing to us, why are you so cruel?!"

The expression on his face was pure confusion.

"Molly, they have the rest of us held captive. Everything I did, everything I am prepared to do is to keep my crew safe."

"But they haven't done anything to them!" Molly cried out. "They're safe! If we can work out a way to get to them without bloodshed -"

Khan cut her off. "You have to be prepared to do anything, Doctor Hooper," he said, steel in his voice.

"I'm not prepared to kill an innocent person," she replied quietly, but with a determined set to her jaw.

* * *

He stared at her for a moment, honestly surprised that she had the spine to stand up to him. He knew he was intimidating and to such a small women even more so. But here she was, berating him for caring more about his own crew than about the lives of the miserable Starfleet minions.

He would **_make_** her see his point of view. He thought briefly before a malicious smile spread over his face. He'd shame her into it.

"Then what good are you?"

Molly stared at him in shock for a moment before doing the exact opposite of what he expected. She stared him straight in the eyes and smirked.

"None, I suppose."

With that bit of defiance, she turned and fled the bridge, John and Lestrade looking first at Khan, then following her, calling Molly's name as they went.

* * *

Molly swallowed down the tears that threatened as she ran out of the room, needing to put distance between the cold man who held her attention so firmly. His rage and callous disregard for others sickened her, but try as she might, she couldn't hate him.

Anything that might have been between them was out of the question now though. No matter how attracted she was to him, Molly wouldn't allow herself to act on it. Not when he could treat people as if they were disposable, their lives meaningless. She found herself in the medical bay, and sighed in relief at the familiarity of her surroundings. All Starfleet ships were outfitted with similar equipment and she ran her fingers over the microscope near her. There were signs that it had been used recently and she noticed a syringe in the nearby hazardous waste bin.

Khan had been here analyzing her blood.

The thought made Molly despair again. She was only human, what could she do in the face of his overwhelming strength of both body and mind. She crumpled to the floor, burying her head in her hands as the shouts of John and Lestrade came closer.

The men entered the room, both approaching her and kneeling down next to her.

"It's ok, Molly. It'll be alright," Lestrade soothed.

* * *

Khan didn't go further into the medical bay than the doorway. His light eyes flicked over the small woman, noting in annoyance that Lestrade was touching her again. John noticed his presence almost immediately and stood, making his way over to where Khan was, casually leaning on the wall next to him.

"You know that's a bit not good," the doctor said, his eyes also on Molly and Lestrade.

Khan glanced at him, his eyes flashing with curiosity. "Why does it matter? I did it all to get you, my crew, my family, back. Even if I can't remember any of you," he added bitterly.

"I know. And I might have done the same, I don't know. But she's good." John looked up at Khan, who was still watching the tiny woman talk to the other man. "She's innocent. And she can't understand why sometimes bad things have to happen for the good of others."

Khan gulped and nodded, deciding that he liked the man next to him. They stood for a moment in silence, the man's presence soothing Khan's jealousy and anger for some reason he couldn't name. Finally, John pushed away from the wall he'd been leaning on and turned, inclining his head to Khan.

"Well, I'll be off, with your permission. I'm still feeling some of the effects of the cryosleep," he said, rubbing his shoulder absently.

Khan nodded, allowing a brief quirk up of his lips at the doctor's retreating back, before turning his attention back to the pair on the other side of the room. His eyes narrowed as Greg patted Molly on the shoulder then drew her in for a hug. His fists clenched as Molly sobbed into the other man's shoulder.

Right then, Khan made up his mind.

_MINE. _

He wanted Molly Hooper, more than he could ever remember wanting someone. He didn't bother trying to fool himself, he knew he was incapable of sentiment, of love, but desire was an impulse he was well acquainted with. He needed her in his bed, moaning underneath him as he moved within her. He wanted to tie her to the bed and fuck her until she screamed his name over and over. He intended for the whole ship to know that she was his and to hear his name frantically yelled by his little woman in the heat of passion as he filled her wet cunt with his cum.

Khan eyed Molly, deducing her body language.

She would not go willingly, not at first. Not now that she knew what he had done. No, she'd be difficult about it and he had no desire to force her. When he took Molly, he wanted her to be happy about it. He wanted her pliant and willing, begging to serve his every need. He wouldn't force her, but he wouldn't stop pursuing her.

He steepled his fingers, rubbing slightly on his full lower lip as he pondered the conundrum. His eyes lit up and lips quirked ever so slightly as he hit on the solution to his problem. He nodded to himself. A slow game of seduction then. He'd make her crave him. Crave his voice, his touch, his presence. Make her desire him as much as he coveted her. She wouldn't realize what was happening until it was too late to turn back.

_Then_, he assured himself, _then she'll be mine._


	5. Strategies

**Sorry about the long wait for this chapter. The story is about to seriously pick up the pace. Hope you enjoy! :)**

* * *

"Doctor Hooper."

Khan's low baritone rumbled through the Medical Bay, echoing slightly against the metal of the tables and coolness of the sleek cabinets and floors. Molly jumped, a frightened yelp escaping her in her surprise at his presence. Khan had entered in near silence and had been watching her for several minutes.

She'd been at a microscope examining a sample of Lestrade's blood that she'd finally worked up the courage to ask for a few hours earlier. The silver-haired man had smiled and acquiesced, gently chastising her for waiting so long to ask for it when it was obvious she was incredibly eager to get her hands on it. She'd blushed, unaware that Khan had been standing in the hall just beyond the door of the room they were in and had clenched his hands into fists, upset that she was more comfortable asking Lestrade for something as intimate as his blood than she was asking him for anything, even basics.

In fact, that she was speaking to Lestrade at all, when she'd shied away every time Khan entered the room she was in. She'd make some excuse and scurry away, but not before his keen eyes detected the hint of a blush trailing from her cheeks down to stain her neck. He desperately wanted to know how far the flush went down her slim frame and had to keep a tight leash on his urges. If he didn't, Khan knew he'd take her, permission or not, and everything would be ruined.

Now though, she was alone in the medical bay, seated in front of her microscope, with a tablet next to her, on which she was jotting quick notes in her loopy handwriting. Most of the room was shrouded in darkness, save for the small area she occupied and the atmosphere was calm.

Khan stalked into the room and opened a cabinet, rummaging around for supplies, then turned to the fridge, pulling out a vial of his own blood and setting everything down in front of the microscope next to Molly.

The petite woman had gone back to her examination, studiously ignoring the male sauntering about the room, but Khan could see that ever present blush beginning to form and creep its way down her neck. He smirked and settled next to her, preparing a slide. He'd been examining his own blood, fascinated by the regenerative abilities he possessed and was subjecting the sample to various traumas in order to ascertain just how much damage he could withstand. They worked in silence for about half an hour before he decided to speak.

"Molly," his tongue caressed her name as he looked up from his microscope.

She jumped slightly, and he smiled to himself. She'd gotten so lost in her work that she'd almost forgotten he was there and had relaxed considerably. He'd been watching her out of the corner of his eye and couldn't help thinking that she was most beautiful when given something to study.

"Could you get me some more slides?" he asked, more in the tone of an order than a request. He was curious as to how she would react to his eliciting her help in small ways and was gratified when she immediately hopped up with a small "of course," and fetched several clean slides for his use.

_She needs a white lab coat. She's not complete._

Khan's brow furrowed as he watched her move around the lab. He couldn't pinpoint why, but he couldn't get the idea of her in a lab coat out of his mind's eye. It wasn't a sexual fantasy either; not that that wasn't appealing, but it was something else. It seemed right for some reason. He frowned, searching his mind, but came up with nothing concrete, just the image of her in the coat. He smoothed his features as she returned with the slides.

Khan took them from the little woman before she could set them down and brushed his fingers along hers, ignoring the shock that the feel of her skin sent through his system, focusing on her face instead. Her eyes widened ever so slightly and she pulled her hands back quickly. He fought the urge to smirk and kept his expression neutral.

She didn't sit back down and instead gathered up the materials she was using and cleaned up her space quickly, before murmuring that she'd finished and intended to retire to her quarters. He nodded, frowning slightly.

Molly left the lab and Khan sat back, running a hand through his hair. It felt right being there with her, working quietly side by side. He let out a growl of frustration and left his things were they were, before stalking out of the medical wing and to the captain's quarters.

* * *

Five hours later, Watson poked his head in Molly's door after knocking, and found her reading on her tablet.

"Hey Molly, he wants us to see him. Apparently he's found something. Sounded impatient."

John frowned, and Molly scrambled up, adjusting her clothes, fitted black trousers with a matching black long sleeve shirt and black knee high boots. She'd planned on staying in her room for the rest of the night, and so hadn't been bothered that her outfit matched Khan's but now she was regretting her choice. Not that there was much to choose from but surely she could've found something else. Changing was out of the question though with Doctor Watson waiting for her at the door. She sighed and joined him, walking swiftly towards their destination.

Khan was standing just inside the room, which looked to be some sort of conference or planning room. It was relatively small, just large enough to house a table surrounded by chairs. He motioned to them and Molly took a seat next to John and across from Lestrade. Khan stood between Lestrade and Molly leaning, supported by his hands, at the head of the table and issued a verbal command to the screen at the other end of the table. It lit up with a map, showing the greater London area.

Molly's eyes widened as she looked at the map, reading street names, barely hearing Khan's words as he spoke about Starfleet headquarters. She recognized many of the names and opened her mouth to speak before she thought.

"Are we from London?" she asked, interrupting Khan in mid-sentence. The three men stared at her and Khan narrowed his eyes, examining her face. Instead of annoyance, after a second of scrutiny, she saw a spark of excitement light up his eyes.

"You are familiar with this map?" he questioned and his face broke out into a pleased expression when she confirmed his assessment of her.

"I do, some of the street names are very familiar," she answered, looking again at the map.

"John, Lestrade?" Khan inquired, but received negative responses from them.

"I didn't recognize it the first time I saw it either. It seems that Doctor Hooper has more of her memory than the rest of us."

Molly glanced down at the table quickly, thoughts of her competing memories floating through her head. Her brow crinkled and she missed the analytical gaze of Khan turned on her before he continued with his briefing, pointing out key buildings and other sites.

"I've pinpointed these two areas as the most likely places for them to be holding the rest of the crew. How we'll get them out is another matter. I can't be seen, or at least I can't be recognized by anyone and I surely would if I strutted into a Starfleet facility. They don't know your faces though so there's our advantage."

Molly looked up sharply. "I'll go."

All three of the men protested, Khan most vehemently.

"No Molly," he commanded, his voice strained. "If you are recognized-"

"You just said they don't know what we look like," she answered, excitement and resolve building within her. "And besides, I'm the only one who remembers anything. Perhaps if I see something familiar, it'll help."

There was silence in the room until Lestrade spoke up.

"I could go with her."

* * *

Khan's head shot up from where he had been glaring daggers at the tabletop.

"No," he ground out, barely controlling his anger at the thought of Lestrade going with Molly into the city, leaving Khan to wonder what they were doing, what he was saying to her.

"It makes sense," John said slowly, his eyes flitting back and forth between Lestrade and Molly before landing on Khan. "I'm not an augment, I wouldn't be able to protect her very well. Lestrade could keep her safe and she could lead him through the city. It's ideal."

_Ideal? No, the situation is far from ideal._ He glanced back at the petite woman next to him, and sighed inwardly. Her jaw was set and her eyes gleamed. He admired her, the determination in her form was almost palpable. She would not fail in her mission, not if it could be helped.

He wasn't happy about it, but sending Lestrade with her would be safest, and he found himself very unwilling to risk any hurt to her, whether it meant letting her go with his apparent rival or not.

Not that Molly knew of the other man's affection for her. He hadn't been as overt about his attraction as Khan had. The captain's chest swelled unconsciously as the thought crossed his mind that Molly hadn't given Lestrade the looks that she'd thrown in his direction when she thought he wouldn't notice. Her delectable blush was missing around the older man as well.

All in all, Khan was fairly confident that she was not interested in Lestrade. It eased his worry slightly.

"Fine. We'll begin tomorrow," he snapped, and sat in his chair. They needed to talk strategy and he wasn't going to leave anything to change with Molly in the line of fire.


	6. Infiltration

Molly tried to still the rapid pounding of her heart as she ran through the alley trying to call up the image of the map in her head. Her breath came in ragged pants, and she skidded to a halt at an intersection, glancing frantically both ways before taking off down the sidewalk, dodging people and shouting her apologizes when she managed to bump into someone.

She could hear her pursuer gaining on her, and she mentally cursed her lungs as they screamed out for oxygen.

Molly turned abruptly, ducking into a dark alley, hoping whoever was chasing her would pass by. She breathed a sigh of relief when they did and turned to walk out the other side of the passage, but froze when a tall figure stepped from the shadows in front of her. It wasn't the person who had been following her, but it wasn't a person she recognized either. Molly opened her mouth to scream just as his hand landed on her mouth smothering her attempt to attract attention.

"I'm so sorry, Miss Hooper," said a calm voice as Molly registered the feel of a body behind her and a syringe in her upper arm. She squirmed helplessly as he pulled the small metal object from its place clipped to the inside of her collar and dropped it to the ground, smashing it underfoot. Shortly after there was a tingling in her body and her eyes drifted closed as her body went limp and she slumped to the ground.

"Alright let's get her to the base before he locates us and all hell breaks loose."

"Yes sir."

* * *

"How the bloody hell did this happen?!" Lestrade spat blood out as he cursed and raged at everything and everyone in his general vicinity.

John grimly handed him a bottle of water and he washed his mouth out with it before taking a long gulp.

"Tell me everything before Khan gets here." John frowned. "You might not get the chance after he gets ahold of you."

* * *

Lestrade was already climbing into the jump ship when Molly arrived in the room. Both were dressed in the formal Starfleet uniform of a deep grey color, the only differences between their outfits being the small patch of color on their chests indicating their divisions; medical blue for Molly and tawny gold for Greg.

John squeezed her hand as he helped Molly into the vessel, reminding Lestrade at the same time of the area in which he was to land and hide the small craft. As John ducked his head inside to buckle her in, Molly took a deep breath and the other doctor smiled encouragingly.

"It'll be fine, Molly," John reassured her. "He's thought of everything. Really, I don't see how one person could come up with so many likely scenarios."

John shook his head in amused exasperation and Lestrade sighed as he peered past the blonde man.

"Where is he, anyway? He said not to leave until he got here but we're ready and if we don't go soon, we'll miss our window."

That window, of course, being the change of guard in the warehouse-like area where the other cryotubes were being held.

John glanced over his shoulder as he ducked back out of the craft and chuckled.

"He'll be here. Surey by now you've noticed he has a bit of a flair for the dramatic," he said with barely concealed amusement.

"Bloody drama queen he is," Lestrade agreed, though he pitched his voice low enough that it was hard to hear.

Molly grinned at the men's exchange, her eyes darting to the glass door, searching for Khan. She hated to admit it, but she was beginning to crave his presence. His voice soothed her and his touch… She couldn't forget the feel of his fingers brushing across her hand in the lab. It was as if his touch had ignited a fire in her veins and she needed more. She craved more.

The petite woman shook her head slightly to dislodge her thoughts which were turning more inappropriate by the second. She couldn't afford to be distracted today, not with such a huge task ahead of her and so much risk in it. She couldn't lose sight of the fact that Khan was a murderer either, not matter how much she desired him or how obviously he wanted her in return.

John and Lestrade continued to talk, going over the plan again.

Finally, Khan appeared, and Molly caught her breath as he stalked through the glass doors and ducked his head inside the jump ship on her side, his face level with her own.

"Here," he said, handing her a small, flat object. "Clip this inside your collar. It will relay your exact location, along with physical data, to the captain's computer here. I'll be able to see where you are and monitor your heart rate and breathing patterns from here."

"Do you really think," Lestrade started, but Khan silenced him with a glare.

"Yes, Lestrade," he growled, "I do think it's necessary."

Molly grasped the tiny monitor in her hand for a moment, then looked back up at Khan who was watching her expectantly, his cold blue eyes assessing her. She smiled slightly, more like a grimace actually, and slid the clip onto the collar of her shirt, the cool metal of the device making the soft skin of her throat prickle with goose bumps. She gasped at the cold sensation and looked up to see Khan's pupils dilate at the soft noise. She stared at him, mesmerized by the ever-changing colors in his unreadable gaze.

After a moment of tense silence, Molly's eyes dropped to her lap and Khan finally moved, slipping his upper body back out of the jump ship and standing back, his arms crossed.

"Do not deviate from the plan. Get as many of the crew as you can this time because I can guarantee that the next attempt will not be so simple. If at any time, you are compromised, get out of there and report back here immediately. Above all," he looked from Lestrade to Molly and back. "Do not get separated."

The two people in the craft nodded and John retreated through the glass doors, followed by Khan, but not before he tossed one last lingering glance in Molly's direction.


	7. Abduction

**Woot! Two chapters for the price of one tonight! Lucky you! hehe Thanks to AllTheBellsInVenice for reading over it for me!**

* * *

Lestrade landed the ship, concealing it by activating the onboard cloaking device. It was well out of the way, no one would accidentally bump into the camouflaged craft. He climbed out first, rounding the ship to help Molly out. She smiled at the gesture, as it stirred something within her, maybe a memory, maybe not, but the action had a sense of rightness to it.

Molly looked both ways and then closed her eyes, picturing the map she'd stared at for hours the previous night. Her brown eyes snapped open and she smiled at Lestrade.

"This way," she declared, pointing to their left.

"Lead on," he replied and fell in step with her as she began to walk.

They traversed the streets of London silently, both concentrating on their task. Molly occasionally paused to examine the signs, but it was never more than a few seconds before she moved on, Lestrade shadowing her movements.

Finally, they arrived at the site where the rest of Khan's, and their, crew was being held. They slipped into the building with little difficulty, the stolen identification cards Khan had presented them with doing the trick to open the doors. The next part was trickier.

Molly watched for any Starfleet personnel as Lestrade worked behind her, cutting wires to disrupt the live feed of the cameras from the room where the cryotubes were located. She momentarily panicked when she heard footsteps coming down the hall.

_Oh God, they can't see him._

She pulled the door to the security room closed behind her and moved a few steps away from it, pretending to fiddle with her identification.

Molly looked up as the footsteps approached and smiled nervously at the man steadily getting closer to her. He stopped and held out his hand, giving her a charming grin.

"Well hello there, James T. Kirk, and you might be?" he said, managing to look both seductive and cheeky at the same time.

She smiled, her eyes flitting over his face. He was blonde, though not quite so much as Doctor Watson, and had clear blue eyes. She mentally compared them to Khan's, and while his were bright and full of mischief, she found herself preferring the icy gaze of the man back on the _Vengeance_. Still, the man was handsome and young, very young to be wearing an officer's uniform.

Molly looked him over more carefully. Wounds, barely healing, not more than a couple weeks old. Recognition dawned on her as she thought back to Khan's presentation the day she awoke and her heart chilled.

She was speaking to Captain James T. Kirk of the _Enterprise, _the man who was almost responsible for the capture of Khan the day he secured herself, John and Lestrade's cryotubes.

She struggled to keep the panic from her face, and cleared her throat softly.

"Molly Hooper," she replied, grasping his hand softly.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance Miss Hooper," he said, pitching his voice low, attempting to be seductive. Molly almost laughed. He was a bold one.

"Doctor," she corrected him with a smile. "Doctor Molly Hooper."

"My apologies, Doctor Hooper," he replied smoothly, casting another cheeky grin her direction. "I must've been momentarily blinded by your beauty to have missed such an obvious classification."

She blushed prettily and smiled at him, but inwardly panicked.

_I've got to get rid of him._

"I haven't seen you here before," the man continued, and he looked back over his shoulder in the direction he'd just come from. "I'm here often, especially since…" He trailed off, looking a little dazed.

"Are you alright," she asked, and touched his arm lightly. He smiled down at her, coming out of his dark thoughts.

"Of course," Kirk said brightly, before checking his watch. "Shit, I've got to go. I'll see you around?" he asked hopefully, and Molly had to bite her lip to keep from laughing this time. Oh he was a ladies man for sure.

"Of course!" she agreed, adding a hint of flirtatiousness to her tone.

He grinned and winked at her then took off down the corridor, his footsteps growing more distant by the second. Molly fell back against the wall, a sigh of relief escaping her as Lestrade's head poked out of the security room.

"Good thing Khan didn't come. If he didn't bash that man's head in for just being in the wrong place at the wrong time, he certainly would've done if when he had the nerve to flirt with you."

Molly huffed at the older man, and sighed.

"Worse than that, he'd have certainly recognized Khan. That was Captain Kirk of the _Enterprise._" Molly looked back down the hall where Kirk had disappeared.

"Come on, let's get going before someone else pops in unexpectedly."

Lestrade nodded and they proceeded quietly down the corridor, before coming to a metal door. Lestrade swiped his badge and it opened.

"Alright, we've got five minutes, give or take a few seconds before someone notices that badge shouldn't be here and eighteen minutes before a squad arrives to apprehend us. Let's get moving," Lestrade said tightly, moving across the room towards the cryotubes, with Molly on his heels.

He gestured for her to go first when they neared, and she slipped past him, peering down into the tubes one by one. Khan had instructed her to check them for anyone she might recognize and give those tubes priority. She was starting to get discouraged when she finally looked down at a familiar face in the seventeenth tube.

The woman inside was dark, with kinky black hair and full lips. Molly had no idea who she was, only that she triggered a memory, and so told Lestrade to hook up the transporter device to her capsule. He did so quickly and efficiently, as Molly moved on down the line of tubes. After a moment, he looked up, his brow furrowed.

"There's not seventy-two tubes here," he stated, his eyes flitting over the tubes again, reassuring himself that he'd counted correctly.

Molly looked up and began to count, but he stopped her.

"There's not, don't count, we don't have a lot of time left," he checked his stopwatch, and called out the time to her.

"Six minutes down."

She nodded, biting her lips and motioned to one of the tubes.

"Here, this one."

A man was inside this one. He was thin and had facial hair which matched the light brown hair on his head. Once again, Molly had no idea who he was, but his appearance rang a bell in a deep part of her mind so she bade Lestrade to attach another device to his tube.

She found a third soon after, an older woman who had a kindly look, even in her drug induced sleep. She had short cut, light brown hair, which curled slightly and her skin was wrinkled with laugh lines. Molly felt a sort of daughterly affection towards the woman, and smiled down at her as Lestrade fitted yet another device to the capsule.

Suddenly, Lestrade froze, listening intently. He motioned for Molly to be silent and stood stock still, hearing things with his superior faculties that Molly couldn't.

He hit the button on the device wrapped around his wrist and the three capsules disappeared, slowly fading out of sight. Molly's eyes widened in fear as he motioned for her to hide behind a cabinet near the door.

The silence of the room was shattered abruptly by the wailing of an alarm and Lestrade cursed loudly, looking down at his timer as he grabbed Molly's hand.

"Shit, we should've had another seven minutes," he bit out angrily, as they dashed through the door and down the hall. They ducked into a side room as a lone figure in black dashed by, their face covered. Molly's brow furrowed as she watched the retreating back, wondering who in Starfleet would dress in that manner.

Her thoughts were swiftly replaced though as Lestrade grabbed hold of her again and began running towards the door. She wasn't nearly as fast as he was, and tripped several times trying to keep up.

They burst through the main door and looked both ways before Molly took off down the street at a run, with Greg right behind her. They made it several blocks before entering a dark alley. Molly's chest ached but she didn't stop. Suddenly, she was knocked to the ground, the force of the blow to her back taking the little breath she had in her away.

She rolled over, her eyes widening at the sight that met her eyes.

The man in black from the Starfleet building was engaging Lestrade in hand-to-hand combat and from the looks of things, they were evenly matched. Molly's frantic brain froze in horror as she realized that the other man, now she could see the lines of his masculine body, could only be an augment.

She scrambled to her feet and took off, sprinting away from the fight and towards the safety of the jump ship. She was almost there when she heard the tell-tale sounds of pursuit behind her.

The petite woman didn't stop running, but glanced behind her to determine if Lestrade had won and caught up to her. To her horror, she saw his attacker instead, gaining on her steadily. She weaved in and out of people, using her small size to her advantage.

She saw her chance when he was momentarily slowed by a group of slow moving pedestrians, and ducked into a dark alley. He passed by but she realized she'd made a monumental mistake moments later as she slipped into darkness induced by a liquid sedative, dark figures above her blurring into black.


	8. Recognition

**Thanks to Ondayer for the TrekCheck on this! You're fantastic!**

* * *

"Hello, Doctor Hooper. It's nice to see you again, pardon my faux paus earlier when I referred to you as a Miss."

_Well at least she'd meet her end at the hands of a polite person._

The cold voice echoed through the room Molly awoke to find herself in. It was stark white, clinical, almost like a lab of sorts, with only a table and several chairs, all metal, scattered around. The floors were concrete, polished to a shine, and the walls were a nondescript, endless white, with not even a single picture or window to break up the monotony of its sterility.

She was bound to one of those chairs, with what felt like a thick rope. As she tested her bonds, it seemed that they were more to hold her upright than to retrain her however.

She struggled to look over her shoulder, and cursed herself when it proved useless, as well as alerted her captors that she had awakened.

She blinked groggily in the bright white light that lit up the area as soon as she moved, a motion sensor activating it. She blinked again, her eyelids heavy from the drugs still coursing through her system. She fought the blackness, but it overpowered her, and she fell once again into a deep, dreamless sleep.

* * *

"You were supposed to stay together!" Khan roared, pinning Lestrade to the brick wall of an alleyway with a snarl.

The older man made no move to struggle, only wiggling enough that Khan's fingers relaxed on his airway slightly. At his shoulder, John tried his best to pacify the raging augment.

"Khan, it isn't his fault. They were attacked. It's easy to get separated," he pleaded, reasoning with the cold man whose hand had not left the other's throat. Khan finally dropped Lestrade, turning his back to him as the man choked for breath.

"Easy to get separated?" Khan repeated in a growl. "Easy to get separated?!" He turned on Lestrade again, screaming at the man who now sat on the ground, braced up by the wall behind him.

"You let her out of your sight! And now she's gone!" Khan hurled the useless tracker at the wall, breaking the already fractured device into several pieces with the force as it struck.

"Calm down, we'll find her," John's voice took on a soothing lilt, and Khan breathed deeply.

"How, do you propose we do that, Doctor Watson?" he replied sarcastically, pointing to the shattered bits of the tracker which would have given them Molly's location. They'd discovered it when Khan appeared suddenly, his long coat swirling around him as he ducked into the alley where Watson had found Lestrade, rather the worse for wear, and tersely commanded them to follow him. He'd led them to the last place Molly's tracker had been functional, and they'd unearthed it there, half buried in loose gravel of the alley, causing Khan to come unglued.

He was angry with himself for letting her go in the first place, cross with Lestrade for losing her, and above all, murderously furious with whoever had taken her.

The evidence was in her tracking device, her swift heartbeat transmitted to the ship for Khan to read, then the sudden slowing, caused by the injection of a sedative and then the abrupt stop of transmission, caused by the grinding of a heel into the device.

Khan's jaw clenched. There was no way to track her unless perhaps they could hack into the CCTV that blanketed London's streets. Speaking of which, they were still wanted and that same camera feed could be used to find them. He sighed.

"Back to the ship. We'll awaken the three you managed to save and try to find a lead on Molly's whereabouts." He turned on his heel and headed back to his jump ship, leaving John to pull Lestrade to his feet and set off for the other.

* * *

"Ah, Doctor Hooper, awake again I see. Perhaps this time enough time has lapsed that the drug won't lull you back into sedation. I am sorry, I fear we overestimated your dosage by a bit."

Molly blinked in the light, pleased to find that her eyelids were no longer as heavy as they had been the previous time she was lucid.

"Who," she began before coughing, her throat scratchy and raw. Instantly, a woman appeared from the shadowy corners of the room, bearing what appeared to be a glass of water. She pulled at Molly's bonds and they fell away easily, giving Molly further proof that they had been meant to support her, rather than restrain her. The woman, a tall figure with brown hair and eyes and a bored expression, silently handed her the glass, which Molly took, eyeing suspiciously, and trotted back over to the shadow, disappearing from Molly's view.

"Drink, my dear, it's quite safe. Your throat is rather raw from your sprint and the after effects of the sedation. I apologize for that again."

The voice was the same detached one from before, but now held a note of fondness in it, warming the cold tones with a bit of mirth. It pulled at a memory in the back of Molly's mind and while she didn't particularly like the voice, she trusted it. Besides, if whoever had abducted her wanted her dead, they could've easily disposed of her already.

With that in mind, Molly upended the glass, greedily chugging down its contents. The cool water soothed her parched throat and she smacked her lips, able to speak again.

"Who are you?" she asked the darkness, and was met with the appearance of another figure. This one was tall, and a man, who Molly quickly decided was the owner of the disembodied voice she'd been hearing. He was impeccably dressed in a rather old-fashioned three-piece suit. Molly had only ever seen one at a Starfleet gala, where the theme had been 'The Good Old Days'. No, wait, that wasn't true, she saw them often, didn't she?

The man must have caught the conflict in her eyes, because he squatted directly in front of her and nodded.

"You know me, Doctor Hooper. Think! Throw away those useless memories you were programmed with and THINK!" His voice reverberated off the cold walls and Molly winced.

_Think. Okay, think._

Her brow furrowed. She couldn't put a name to the man but as she studied him, he seemed more and more familiar.

"You should have an umbrella," she blurted out, and clapped a hand over her mouth immediately. The man chuckled.

"Indeed, my dear, I should. Never went anywhere without one before." He frowned, pondering. "No need for them now, really. I hardly leave this bunker." He looked rather lost for a moment and Molly felt the urge to comfort him.

"Who are you?" she tried again, and he snapped out of his thoughts.

"Doctor Hooper, you need to listen to everything that I say and trust me explicitly, can you do that?"

Molly chewed her lip, looking at the man before her for a long moment. All she had to go on were a few feelings and distant memories, and, well, he **_had_** abducted her by force. Still, she nodded, hesitantly, but more firmly by the second.

"I trust you."

In a blinding moment of clarity, she smiled, then repeated herself.

"I trust you, Mycroft Holmes."


End file.
